One and a Half
by Mina1914
Summary: England hasn't gotten laid in a long time, and he's sick of it. So, he turns to other options. Warning: tentacle porn!


Warning: **tentacle porn! **

* * *

><p>England hadn't had sex in almost two years, and that took a toll on him. A toll of alcohol, loneliness, and always-being-horny. He hadn't been in a committed relationship in over <em>four <em>years. Not that he cared, romance wasn't his kind of thing. But, brutal fucking, was. Not that he's had any lately, and that was the problem.

No one was attracted to him, apparently. And that's what England convinced himself. He was boring. And lately, his looks haven't been doing him much good, either. Maybe if all the clothes weren't there, things would change. But who would get to see? He certainly wasn't going to strip in front of everyone at a bar, he would be kicked out.

Anyways, he hadn't sex in a while, and that was the point.

So, he resorted to one thing or the other. Which was going through his lab and finding what he was looking for. He's used it a few times before, but he was only experimenting with it. This time, he was planning to do _it _out of pure want.

And once he finished his dinner, he read for an hour or two on the couch down in his living room in front of the telly, the lamp on the table beside him dimly lit, casting a comforting glow throughout the living room. A few minutes passed of silence, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock and the rustle of the pages he turned, before he heard the distant creak of wood somewhere above him.

Ah, so it had awoken? England knew he should go up to it; and he will. With ease, of course. He knew it wasn't going to suddenly lash out and destroy everything. It was tame, and it was calm. Waiting for him.

With a gentle sigh, England bookmarked his place before he quietly shut his novel, and stood. His shoes made small padding noises as he walked through the living room, past his kitchen to the staircase leading upstairs. He swallowed before he exhaled and ascended the stairs, his hand drifting over the banister, his book in his other hand.

He looked around once he made it to the top step, his eyes pausing over his bedroom's door. The floorboards creaked beneath him as he made his way to it, his palm resting flatly on the soft wood to cautiously push it open. The room was dimly lit by the setting sun, the drapes to his large window drawn back, as he had left it.

After quietly shutting the door behind him, he stared at the large..thing resting on the floor, at the foot of his canopy bed. It had a blanket draped over it, from his doings, and he could see the body lift and fall slightly, as if inhaling and exhaling softly. Was it still in slumber?

England made sure to be silent as he reached down to slip his socks and loafers off, his shoes making a quiet thud once he let them drop onto the carpet. Once placing his book on his dresser beside the door, he approached the creature. It stirred slightly from him coming near, the blanket rustling and slipping down slightly. England crouched down beside it, and reached out to push the blanket away, revealing the transparent creature. Instantly, it's rope-like arms poked out of it's blob of a body, and began to wave back and forth, England smiling lightly.

He patted it, feeling the very warm body and it's soft skin (although it was kind of wet, as always), earning one of it's arms to run over his hair, ruffling it. The smile on England's lips softened, before he reached back to hold the arm, lowering it down to hold it in both of his hands. It was very sticky, but warm, as the rest of the creature.

He swallowed noisily, his eyes raising to look at the thing, feeling himself grow hot in his clothes suddenly. Then he stood again, letting the arm go. The bed creaked lightly once he took his seat on the side, his eyes fixed on the wall opposite of him, his heartbeat beginning to grow abnormal.

After another deep exhale, he turned to face the foot of the bed, and slid to the center of the mattress, the comforter plush and soft below him. He palmed it as he leaned against the headboard, his back against the pillows.

It was slightly awkward for him to just sit there, waiting. But, sooner than later, his temporary companion began it's work.

One of it's arms slithered to him over the comforter, getting it slightly sticky, before it wrapped around his ankle. He licked his bottom lip before he closed his eyes. Then he felt two bigger arms slide up his shirt, the warm, wet limbs traveling hungrily over his skin. Two other tentacles went up his pant legs, too hungry for skin-contact to care to remove his pants, at the moment.

England shivered all the while, the textures of the arms and the wetness over his skin making him become breathy. He was excited, and anticipated what was about to come.

Finally, it slid his pants and underwear down with two arms hooked around the waistbands. England let it do all the work, this whole process for him just to sit back and enjoy. And he was enjoying this. Greatly, even.

When it eventually got rid of his shirt too, Arthur was already panting lightly, and he was more turned-on than he's ever been by just his hand and imagination. His breath stuttered when it spread his legs, two of the tentacles wrapped around his ankles.

He rested his head back on the pillows, feeling two of the arms slid over and around his thighs, massaging gently. It did the same over his chest and his sides, as well as his arms. Relaxing him. And it worked, only he was beginning to grow impatient.

So, one tentacle (that was distinctly larger than the others) came out of the body of the creature. England sucked in a breath once he felt the pre-lubricated tentacle poke around, his face turning redder than it already was. He exhaled a breath he's been holding, and reached down to grab onto it, feeling how wet it was – and the _heat_, before he guided it, his fingers wrapped around it as he pushed it.

A gasp and groan emitted from his lips once it began to wiggle up into him, his toes flexing. He didn't resist when one tentacle wrapped around his wrists, pinning his arms above his head. When the tentacle inside him began to move back and forth, in and out, he felt that recognizable feeling twist and turn in his abdomen, unraveling and exposing. It was just so _hot_, inside of him.

"Ah, fuck, _yes_.", he said breathlessly, before he moaned and panted.

But once he felt his feet begin to be touched, the heat and wetness, he gasped so audibly, his hips bucking up slightly in surprise. He groaned, feeling them run over his toes and around the heel, and then the arch.

It knew where to touch, apparently. Over his feet, and then shortly over his stomach. It massaged around his stomach, spreading the slick substance over his skin.

"T-That isn't fair.", he mumbled, feeling the sensation low in his abdomen begin to grow more pronounced. When the tentacle inside him began to move again, and the others worked on his feet and stomach with these sensual movements, he arched his back, and his mouth went slack.

For awhile, the only sounds he could hear was his heartbeat, the creaking of his mahogany bed (from his body moving back and forth), the suggestive noises coming from below, and the gasps and moans coming from him. This continued until he couldn't stand it anymore, the feeling in his abdomen clenching before it unfurled, making him finish earlier than he would have wished.

It's movements slowed down, the tentacle moving in and out at a more slow pace, until it pulled out.

Then all of it left him, leaving him a panting, sweaty, flushed mess, his eyes closed from exhaustion, and his hands open and limp on the bed by his sides. His chest heaved after each intake, and his heartbeat was very slowly returning to normal.

The creature's arms slipped back into it's body, now it only a big blob sort of thing, with it's blanket back over it. It may have been satisfied, but not as much as England.

That may have been the best sex England has had in a long time.


End file.
